


Pas de Deux

by wingedspirit



Series: Winter 2019 Prompts [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 31 Days of Ineffables Advent Calendar Challenge (Good Omens), 31 Days of Ineffables Advent Calendar Challenge 2019 (Good Omens), M/M, Pure Unadulterated Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21660766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedspirit/pseuds/wingedspirit
Summary: Aziraphale has a pair of tickets toNutcracker. Crowley has objections.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Winter 2019 Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560823
Comments: 6
Kudos: 150
Collections: Aziraphale's Library Festive Fic Recs





	Pas de Deux

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [drawlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drawlight)’s [advent calendar prompt list](https://drawlight.tumblr.com/post/188869931294/aziraphale-crowley-for-half-an-hour-youve-been) (day 3, nutcracker).

“No.”

“But —”

“ _No_.”

“But it’s tradition!”

“It’s terrible, is what it is.”

“Actually, it’s a very well-regarded performance, and the principals —”

“I don’t _care_. I’m sure it’s wonderful for —” Crowley sighs. “Listen. You remember the years we spent raising Warlock? You remember how the Dowlings fancied themselves patrons of the arts?”

“Yes.” Aziraphale frowns.

“Well, they were very busy people, as you might remember.” Crowley tries and fails to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “They were so _terribly, awfully busy_ that the extent of their actual interaction with the arts was attending one single performance a year. A ballet, in December. It’s _tradition_ , you see. They couldn’t miss it.”

Aziraphale winces. “…I think I’m beginning to see the problem.”

“I thought you might. I had to sit through a performance of _Nutcracker_ every year. Every single year. I couldn’t avoid going, because my job was to take care of Warlock — I had to be there, to keep him quiet and attentive for the duration of the performance. The first year was alright, the second bored me to tears, the third onwards was _torture_.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. If I never hear _Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy_ ever again, it’ll be too soon. Sorry.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale says, again, quiet and glum.

“Look, I can tell you were looking forward to this,” Crowley says, gently. “You do realise you don’t have to go out with me all the time, right? Give Madame Tracy a call, invite her. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to come along to the ballet with you, have a nice evening out. You can tell me all about it later.”

“If you’re sure,” Aziraphale says, dubiously.

“I’m sure,” Crowley says, firmly. “Go.”

* * *

“Crowley?”

Crowley cracks his eyes open, squinting in the dim light. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, especially not on the incredibly uncomfortable sofa in his flat, but he’s always more tired in winter. “Angel? What time is it?”

“It’s only seven. I was thinking we might go out for dinner.”

Crowley blinks, suddenly a lot more awake than a moment ago. “What about _Nutcracker_? Isn’t that meant to be starting soon?”

“Ah. Yes. I gave both tickets to Madame Tracy. She’s going with an old friend of hers from school, I believe.”

“But —” Crowley frowns. “You wanted to see it.”

“Yes, but it occurred to me that I would much rather spend time with you.” Aziraphale smiles. “It’s the first Christmas season we get to truly be with each other, after all. _Nutcracker_ will keep. Maybe in a few years’ time you’ll feel differently about it.”

“Years? That’s entirely too optimistic. Try centuries,” Crowley grumbles good-naturedly, pulling himself up to a sitting position, then standing. “Shall we do the Ritz again, or did you have somewhere else in mind?”

“Wherever you want, my dear. It’s your company I cherish, not the food.”

The more Aziraphale says things like that, the closer Crowley finds himself to getting quite embarrassingly weepy, and that simply won’t do. He’s a demon with a reputation to uphold, after all. So, instead, he grins toothily. “Well then, two blocks down from here there’s a —”

“ _No_ , Crowley,” Aziraphale interrupts, promptly. “I know perfectly well what’s two blocks down from here, and I will not —”

Crowley’s grin grows wider. “Sully the temple of your celestial body with gross matter?”

Aziraphale wrinkles his nose, but can’t quite completely smother an answering grin. “Yes, well. In this particular case, ‘gross matter’ is an accurate description.”

“I know, I know. We could do that Japanese restaurant near Piccadilly Circus? They have sushi, and apparently their wagyu steak is excellent.”

“That sounds good. Shall we walk? It’s a lovely evening, and it’s not far.”

“Whatever you want, angel. Whatever you want.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Crowley was, in fact, going to suggest a fast food place.
> 
> I can, as ever, be found on [Tumblr](https://wingedspirit.tumblr.com/).


End file.
